


Dear Sgt. Barnes

by abbynormallll



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky is in afghanistan, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, I dont know how to tag things, Military, but its going somewhere, i dont really know where this is going yet, letter writing, no powers, soldier!bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:14:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbynormallll/pseuds/abbynormallll
Summary: While dropping off clothes for the homeless, Darcy Lewis picks a soldier from the Holidays for Heroes tree to send a little Christmas cheer.While stationed in Afghanistan, Sgt. James "Bucky" Barnes receives a package from a stranger and is initially annoyed at this person's assumption he needs a care package for doing his job.  However, Bucky finds himself rummaging for a piece of paper to respond to this stranger's ramblings, if not just to correct her abysmal taste in Christmas movies.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 30
Kudos: 167





	Dear Sgt. Barnes

**Author's Note:**

> SO. I am going to preface this with a few things: 1. I am not a writer and there are probably some mistakes in this, 2. I am not in/nor affiliated with the military, so some terminology may be incorrect and I apologize for that, feel free to constructively criticize me in the comments (ill try not to cry too much even though I know im wrong) 3. during my quick googling I found out that there is a new hallmark movie with this exact premise. I found this out AFTER I wrote this, I was inspired to write this from daydreams about writing letters to a man overseas that can date back to my obsession with world war II era love stories, but alas there are 7 billion people in the world and two or more people are bound to have the same thought. once again this is basically a rough (very rough) draft and if I do continue this work (which relies on you *puppy dog eyes*) I will most definitely go back and edit this

Darcy made her way to the back of her car, opening the trunk while noting what appeared to be a new scratch next to her license plate. She grabbed the large cardboard box that was overflowing with hand-knit hats and scarves, somehow managed to close her trunk, and made her way into the small office building that housed a local nonprofit. Struggling with the door for a minute, she finally made her way into the small reception area. Though she could barely see over the mountain of yarn in front of her face, Darcy made sure to give the woman sitting at the front desk a warm smile, which was returned fondly. The woman was maybe sixty or so, with graying hair that was cut to her shoulders, she was wearing a soft-looking Christmas jumper that depicted the reindeer guiding Santa’s sleigh through a cloudless night. The office was outdated, with exposed brick wall that had to date back to the 70’s and linoleum flooring that was peeling in the corners, but there was a fire dancing in the small fireplace with two of the most comfortable looking chairs Darcy had ever seen carefully placed on a slightly matted shag rug. There was a tall pine tree in between the two chairs, filling the small space with a crisp, woodsy scent that brought Darcy back to her childhood of going with her parents to cut down a tree for their living room each year. She was pulled from her reminiscing when she realized the woman at the desk was talking to her.

“You must be Darcy?” the woman questioned, “I am Lucille, I spoke with you on the phone earlier.” The warm smile never left the woman’s, Lucille’s, face as she spoke, Darcy suddenly felt a pang in her chest, reminded too much of warm smiles like Lucille’s she used to see every single day.

“Yes, I am,” Darcy started, her lips pulling back into a grin when she met Lucille’s deep green eyes, “it is so nice to meet you.”

“You as well, dear. Do you need help with that box?” Lucille’s eyes swept over Darcy’s arms, noticing they looked two seconds away from snapping off.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I am just as weak as I look.” Darcy decided to place the box on a narrow table against the wall nearest the front desk, “I managed to make about 18 scarves and 11 hats, I would have made more if I had seen your sign earlier.” Darcy gave Lucille an apologetic smile, hoping her contribution was enough. She had seen the sign about two weeks prior, stuck haphazardly in the grass outside the small run-down building she currently stood in. “Donate Clothes to the Homeless by November 30th” it had read, with a phone number listed underneath. Darcy called, knowing she wanted to contribute, but the deadline was in a matter of days. On the phone she had talked to a woman and asked if she could bring by some handmade items the following week, the woman had happily accepted, and now here they were. 

“That is so generous of you, any contributions are extremely helpful, and I cannot say thank you enough.” Lucille reached for Darcy’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze to convey the weight of her words. Lucille was quickly carving out a spot for herself within Darcy’s heart, the older woman was too good for this world, and the work she did at the charity only added to her saint-like qualities. Lucille came around the counter to look in the box and inspect the articles Darcy had brought, admiring each like they were pieces of fine art. “These are simply wonderful, dear, you are truly talented.” 

Darcy thanked her, taking the opportunity to look around the shelter again, particularly at the large Christmas tree. She noticed what appeared to be white index cards, like the type she used to use to study for her macro-econ class, dotted the tree, interspersed randomly between mismatched ornaments. She walked towards the tree and examined them further, noticing there were only a handful left on the tree and she assumed there used to be more. Each card had a name and address, and a few sentences written at the bottom. Lucille must have seen her looking, shouting an answer to Darcy’s unasked questions,

“That is our Giving Tree,” she started, turning away from the box of knit goods to face Darcy, “each year we choose a group of people to sponsor for Christmas, most years we sponsor an orphanage, but this year we decided to sponsor a platoon of American soldiers stationed in Afghanistan for Holidays for Heroes. They are stationed at a military base in Bagram, and most of them do not have a lot of family or other contact to the outside world. Each card has the name of a soldier in the platoon and a short biography, we encourage people to write them a letter or send a holiday card, just to remind them we are thinking about them during the holiday season and that their valiant efforts fighting for their country is much appreciated. Most people send small bags of toiletries, maybe some candy, something to give them a little Christmas spirit while away from home.”

Lucille finishes with a fond look to the Christmas tree, Darcy could tell how proud she was of the men and women detailed on those cards as well as being proud of how many cards had already been taken. Inspired, Darcy took another look at the tree and picked a card on a bottom branch, slightly hidden behind a large pickle ornament. As she was straightening up, she began to read the delicate script she was sure Lucille had written herself;

Sgt. James Barnes

Infantry Sergeant, 78th Company, 2nd Platoon

365 EN BN

Bagram Airfield

APO, AE, 09354

Sgt. Barnes is serving his third tour in Afghanistan and has

been in the Army since he turned 18. He said all he wants

for Christmas is the safety of his company.

Darcy was not expecting to be so moved by the two sentences at the bottom of the card, but they struck a cord within her chest and she immediately, however irrational it may be, felt an attachment to this man. She turned to Lucille once more, “Do you mind if I take this?” she asked, her voice sounding slightly raw. 

The look Lucille returned to her was almost as if she knew exactly what Darcy was feeling, “Not at all.” 

Feeling inspired Darcy said her thanks and bid Lucille goodbye, promising to help distribute the clothing items to the homeless with her the following week. In her car once more, Darcy read the card still gripped in her hands again. She could not guarantee the safety of Sergeant Barnes’s men, but she could try her damnedest to make his life a little easier. 

* * *

Stopping at Target on the way home Darcy picked up toiletries, a postal box, packing tape, and enough ingredients to make a double batch of Grammy Lewis’s world-famous chocolate chip cookies. Darcy figured a sergeant in the Army serving his third tour probably did not eat many sweets, but no one could resist her chocolate chip cookies, no one. She made the cookies, making sure to put as much love into them as possible (Grammy Lewis’s secret ingredient, that and flaky sea salt), and packaged them in festive holiday Tupperware. Once the cookie mess was cleaned, she placed the cookies into the postal box she picked up, along with the Ziploc bag of toiletries and some packing peanuts. Then she sat down at her breakfast bar and began her letter;

Dear Sgt. Barnes,

**Author's Note:**

> so I dont know where I am going with this, but I do know I want to go SOMEWHERE with it, if you like this chapter PLEASE consider commenting and letting me know, I have started chapter 2 but me continuing this pretty much relies on other people wanting me to (supply and demand yada yada yada) thank you so much for your time I love u all


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